


If at first you don't succeed...

by Haesselmaas



Category: EastEnders
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Internal Conflict, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:52:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haesselmaas/pseuds/Haesselmaas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Syed tries. He really tries to think about Amira...</p>
            </blockquote>





	If at first you don't succeed...

Syed tries. He really tries. He tries to think about Amira and her perfect female form. To picture her laying beneath him, naked, her long, curly hair lying in waves down her shoulders. To imagine that he takes her roughly, running his tongue all over her perfectly shaped breasts and kissing her soft lips. But instead, when he's stroking himself, he closes his eyes and feels his hand turn into someone else's.

A strong hand strokes him now and Syed gasps. His left hand travels up his chest, nails lightly gliding over a sensitive nipple, ending up on his right cheek, thumb pushing its way into his mouth. Syed whimpers and licks the digit, but the hand soon leaves the face and travels downward. With his eyes closed Syed feels lips moving around his chest. He feels hands stroking his sides, moving up to his shoulders and finally to his neck. Lips and tongue move up his body, biting and soothing his nipples, leaving electricity in its wake. The lips reach his mouth and Syed gasps silently. He imagines he can sense the taste he knows so well. The taste of honey and...heat. He brings up his hand and he can almost feel the short blonde hair against his fingers.

Syed climaxes, biting his lip to keep from moaning out loud. "Just a few more minutes" he thinks. Just a few more minutes in this fantasy, before he has to open his eyes and face reality. But as the fantasy fades Syed feels the man above him lean in and press his lips to Syed's forehead and Syed knows he's gone. He lies there for a while, in the darkness, next to Amira, feeling completely and utterly alone.

* * *

 

When he sees Christian on the street a whirlwind of emotions begins. At first, as always, he is struck by how undeniably sexy Christian is. He stops to look at him for half a second and then Christian looks up and looks him straight in the eye.

The first thing he sees there is love. He sees the love that Syed is unwilling to accept mirrored in those beautiful eyes. But the love is mixed with a deep sadness and regret. A sorrow that Syed feels weighing on his shoulders, burdening him alongside the guilt of not telling Amira, of trying to be the perfect son when he knows, deep down, it's a lie. And all this extra weight naturally results in anger. Why should _he_ feel guilty that _Christian_ is having a hard time? He could just leave Syed alone! So he breaks the eye contact, stares at the ground and keeps walking.

But the last emotion betrays all his apparent anger, because it makes him stop, turn around and look at Christian remorsefully as he walks away.

* * *

 

Amira always wants him to be in control. He is her husband and therefore he should take the lead. Most of all he should have full say in the bedroom. When she corners him and shoots down all his excuses he has no choice but to step up and be aggressive, possessive and...manly. He lets his anger take over. He allows himself be angry at Amira for always acting so damn sweet. At Christian for being impossible to ignore or forget. At his family for being so damn proud of him. But mostly at himself for being such a spineless git.

His anger is what is making him push Amira down on the bed, holding her hips, pin her to the mattress and kiss her firmly. She wiggles under him, clearly pleased with his possessive behaviour, and he envies her. Because what she doesn't know is that he likes to give in to stronger hands too. He prefers to be held down on the bed, leaving no room for escape, and then being kissed like he has no choice in the matter.

Thinking of that image and closing his eyes tight, he prepares to fulfil his duty to his wife. Being careful not to let his hands roam her body, he leans over and kisses her, pressing his firm erection to her clothed sex in a clear indication of his willingness to do this. He doesn't feel the need to add that his willingness very much depends on the strength of his imagination and his ability to keep his eyes closed. When the deed is done he has to force himself to stay there and cuddle with her even though he'd much rather run to the bathroom and be sick.

* * *

 

Once she is sleeping he gently wiggles out of her grasp and leaves the room. Having put the kettle on downstairs he leans against the counter and sighs. It wasn't always that bad. The first time he had slept with her out of frustration. She had allowed someone else to kiss her, so the possessiveness came over him rather easily. Afterwards he had felt proud. Like he had finally defeated the temptation and that everything was going to be perfect. Then he saw Christian's face. He didn't know why he had felt the need to find him and gloat, but whatever the reason it disappeared in a ball of smoke when he saw the hurt the announcement had caused Christian. After that the sexual act between husband and wife had sunk lower and lower on Syed's list of priorities. It became a chore. Something to be avoided at all costs.

He pours water in the cup with the teabag and walks into the living room to stand by the window. The street is dark and almost empty. The doors to the pub open and Syed immediately looks over there, his heart automatically beating faster. But when he sees who comes out (or rather who doesn't) his heart sinks. A couple of drunkards staggering out into the night, leaning on each other and trying to find their way home. Syed gives himself a mental slap and sighs. He takes a sip from his cup. This can't keep happening. He can't keep dragging Christian and Amira on at the same time. He has to make a choice. He puts down the cup, leans his hands on the windowsill and sighs.

For a moment he allows himself to wonder. To imagine what it would be like. He would push off from the windowsill and go up the stairs. He would quietly put on clothes and pack a bag. Kiss Amira on the cheek as a goodbye. He would go down the stairs and walk out the front door. On the way he would be laughing to himself and walking faster with each step. He would reach Christian's apartment building and enter. He would hurry up the stairs and pause in front of the door. He would know with absolute certainty that this is where he wanted to be and that nothing and no-one could stand in the way of that. The door would open and...

"Oh, you're up too then? Couldn't sleep, I suppose?"

Amira's loving voice cuts like a knife in his reverie. Hearing her voice brings him back to all the practical reasons he has been carrying for so long. The shackles that keeps his dreams from wandering too far. This is where he should be. With his family and his wife. 

"Syed?" 

He slowly lets his fingers float over the glass in the window, sending a pained gaze out on the street, before letting them fall and then turns around. "Yes," he says with a smile to his wife, "couldn't sleep." He walks over to her, kisses her sweetly on the cheek before walking to the kitchen to make her some tea.


End file.
